When you’re young, it’s easy
Flying, soaring, laughing, smiling,
and
it’s easy.
No worries.
And the faith you have in those solid wooden beams is limitless.
As you age, there’s doubt.
To grow wise is to grow careful,
after all.
Not sure if those rickety boards will hold you anymore.
Cold metal chains stinging already blistered palms
like lies from the mouth of someone once trusted.
The ride up is nice. Higher and higher.
But gravity does its job and pulls you down.
A sickening drop.
Backandforthbackandforth
just like indecision making you want to puke.
And when you’re through, you jump from the top.
Another fall.
But this time, the chains you took for granted
aren’t there to catch you.